Page 81 of Souls We Rip

God. His love for people spread through the words of priests.

Before my eyes, the man wearing the holy cassock was doing unspeakable things to women. His hands did not soothe but hit. Instead of caressing, he broke skin. The priest did not impart wisdom, but punishment. Instead of leaving God to spread His judgement, the priest was doing it.

“The Elk… is the devil incarnate,” Andrei whispered from behind my back.

“Yes.”

If the Elk wanted me to lose my belief in God, he would be disappointed. I knew that not all priests were like the one I was looking at. Priest Neagu was the image of kindness with anyone who would step inside his church. And I have changed so much since I joined Tiberius.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I shook my head at the ghost. “No, I need to be doing this alone,” I whispered, grabbing one of Tiberius’s cloaks. The dark fabric was smooth on my skin, and the smell of old books and wax was imprinted on me. With a swift move, I called on my scythe. “Just be ready to tend to his wounds.”

Andrei nodded and breathed loudly. “Take care, Ana! And most importantly, this time, do not hesitate!”

God Himself must have placed me on this path. To prove my beliefs. As I said to the Elk, the Order had scythes to deliver justice on Earth. But ultimately, God had the power to decide which soul belonged to Him.

There was no hunger, no thirst, as I was waiting in front of the church. My eyes roamed over the holy place; paintings of different saints were shining in the afternoon light. The cross which stood on top of the roof whispered to me to back down. But I couldn’t.

Its large arcade windows were closed, and I felt the smell of burnt wax coming from inside the holy place.

The air was colder than outside, even if plenty of candles were aflame. My eyes hit the altar’s golden doors, where the priest was.

The holy place was larger than any church I have seen. Ten rows of pews occupied most of the space. Paintings of saints decorated the inside walls, with Mother Mary and John the Baptist guarding the altar doors. There were fresh flowers on each step that led to the room behind the golden gates.

A whimper caught my ear, and my head jerked to it.

Before the painted saints stood an older woman, holding a younger one. The latter’s skin was broken, just as I saw in my Mirror. The elderly woman’s eyes bulged as she saw me, but I shook my head. Then her gaze travelled to my scythe, tightening her hold on the younger woman.

My feet walked further until I reached the stand that held an icon picturing the Mother Mary and her child. I made the cross sign, kissed it and then prayed for forgiveness.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. Behold the handmaid of the Lord: Be it done unto me according to Thy word.”

“Oh,” someone said behind the stand.

I lifted my eyes, and the priest stood with a golden cross in his hands. His cassock was open, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I didn’t want to tarnish the house of God. Therefore, I pushed his body out of it. He landed outside the church, in the cemetery, his head bouncing off the pebbled ground. Multiple gravestones watched as my scythe appeared at the priest's neck.

“Who are you?” the priest asked, crawling on his knees.

The blade touched the skin of his neck, a drip of blood staining it.

“I am the one who believed every person had something good in them. But recently,” I took a deep breath, imagining Tiberius’s eyes, “someone showed me that evil can reside in everyone.”

“I am not evil!” he argued. “I am only doing God’s work!”

I stifled a laugh. “God would not send His messenger to inflict pain.”

“The woman was vile! She wouldn’t serve her husband.”

“And that is why you decided to bleed her under God’s roof?”

“She needed to be punished!”

The woman from the church reminded me of my mum, doing everything she could to not rile up my father.

Closing my eyes, I grabbed the scythe and plunged the blade into his neck. The force of the hit made me retreat a few steps behind, keeping my eyes on the lifeless body.